“You’re saying you were fed bad evidence,” I say.
“Yes.”
“And now?”
A breath on the line. “Now I think my boss is involved in something he shouldn’t be.”
Tessa leans closer, listening.
“Why call me?” I ask.
“Because if this blows up—and it will—I’m not going down for it.”
Honest.
I can work with that.
“What do you have?” I ask.
“Internal logs,” he says. “Access records. Dispatch timestamps. Reynolds logged in near the crash before the call came in.”
I glance at Blaze. He nods—matches what we saw.
“Bring it,” I say.
“Can’t do it at the station,” Cole replies. “Everything’s being watched.”
“Then you don’t go to the station,” I say. “We’ll set a meet.”
A pause.
“Alright.”
I look out the windshield, calculating.
“Old Mill Road,” I say. “South turnout. In two hours, we’ll meet you there.”
“I know it.”
“Come alone.”
“You too.”
“No,” I say. “But we’ll keep it clean.”
Another breath.
“Fine.”
The line clicks dead.
Blaze exhales. “That’s a risk.”
“Yeah,” I say. “But it’s also a crack.”
Trigger nods once. “We can control the meet.”
“Do it,” I say.